


From Calvary to Eden

by elJimmeister



Category: Avenged Sevenfold, Escape the Fate
Genre: F/M, Forced Prostitution, Human Trafficking, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:18:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5570929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elJimmeister/pseuds/elJimmeister
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michelle DiBenedetto-Haner was abducted seven years ago and made into a whore against her will, until...</p>
            </blockquote>





	From Calvary to Eden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dzzy-Mz-Lzzy](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dzzy-Mz-Lzzy).



> Originally posted on DeviantArt on March 7, 2014 [is coincidentally Women's Day] as the 11,111 pageview kiriban gift to a friend.
> 
> Synystelle. (Heterosexual pairing of Synyster Gates and Michelle diBenedetto)
> 
> This is the very first serious story I have written which features a female character as the protagonist, and an OC as the villain. Furthermore, this story has got to be one of the grimdarkest I've ever written, and as I typed the words, my fingers were actually trembling. I wrote this as a product of my nightmares about human trafficking which kept me awake. I lay in bed contemplating about the state of life of those who are still being victimized today by the sex slavery industry.
> 
> VIOWER EXCRETION STRONLY ADVISD. This is classified 'mature' for several reasons.
> 
> Rather disturbingly, I noticed that my writing has become heavily influenced by Crawl, an erotic rape fantasy story which I'm currently MSTing. Who knew that a piece of plotless dreck would actually inspire me to write this?

Another day has come, and the sun rose once more over the horizon. However, I don't get to see its magnificent crepuscular rays of gold through the nonexistent windows and imaginary louvers of hope in the dank and dark warehouse where I have been imprisoned, only let out when I was one of the 'Chosen' for the day, and being one of them is like going out from the frying pan and into the fire. With me were women who have met the same fate as I have: victims from all walks of life and ethnicities. Some were those who hoped to get a job with better pay than what they had before. Quite a number of them were mothers from the Philippines, going overseas in hopes of giving their children a better life, sacrificing companionship and physical nurturing in order to get more dough rolling back to their homes, only to have their hopes killed. Others were emaciated, black women taken from the arid sub-Saharan areas with a promise for a better life. Worst of all, I've even had companions who were as young as seven years of age who just wanted to have some candy.

We talked not to each other, only to ourselves, for we have been silenced by fear, lest our captors hear us conspire a plan to escape and subject us to cold-blooded torture without a second thought whatsoever. I have seen such a thing happen to one of my companions before; her nipples were pierced with meat hooks that glared against the harsh fluorescent light of the torture chamber. She was hoist ten feet from the ground, with hands tied above her head by barbed wire, which was tied to a steel truss. The last I heard from her were her screams of agony and animosity, promptly silenced by a cut through her throat from a foot of blinding steel.

0600 hours.

"WAKE THE FUCK UP, BITCHES!" screamed one of our captors, piercing the almost deathly silence with a voice that sounded almost like a demon straight from the vile asshole of Hell, and waking me up from my nightmare so that I would face an even worse one.

"DOUBLE TIME!" he shouted as he corralled us through the steel door that led to the Hallway of Russian Roulette, as I've always called it.

We have all been made to line up with our backs against the cold, rough, betón brut wall, and we were all clad in nothing but our birthday suits. Goosebumps formed all over my skin, and my nipples stood proud and erect from the cold, but I trembled in fear despite my efforts to stand in attention and look straight. The vast room was quite dark, only dimly lit by a few bulbs, and the harsh light shone on our skins in a chiaroscuro.

"I SAID, LOOK STRAIGHT!" he shouted at one of the girls who dared move her eyeballs. She was promptly taken away to the torture chamber when she disobeyed again. It was just a typical day for me to hear those screams.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, OR THINGS WILL GET WORSE FOR YOU!" the man shouted at the same wretched girl.

Just then, I felt a pat on my shoulder, and a latex glove brushed against my bare shoulders, which soon wandered down, cupping my breasts. An imposing silhouette blocked whatever little is left of my frozen field of view, his head obscured by a beanie and a black bandanna wrapped around the lower half of his face. Only his piercing, perverted stare is visible through the coverings.

"You," his deep, menacing voice resonated into my ear. "Come with me."

I was led to the warehouse truck, the ferry-way that led to Hell. It was another long drive across stretches of a scorching desert towards that hotel. Just like the other dreadful days when I would get picked, I was given a make-up kit and lingerie in order to prepare myself for what was to come.

I was also given some time to shower, and I would use that time to contemplate and to cry. Those moments were my only solace. I felt the lukewarm water drench my skin and cleanse my soul even just for a little while. I savored the perfect temperature in contrast to the dank cold of the warehouse and the scorching heat of the truck's interior. For these ten minutes of every hour given to me, I was already grateful. I knew that I no longer had any means to escape without ending up like the girls sent to the meat hooks. I would get thrown away anyway when I become too old, shriveled, and withered for anyone to enjoy ravaging, and I knew that that time would come eventually. I knew that the flowers of my beauty and youth would wither. I just had to be patient.

This has become my life now, and there was no more turning back. I no longer had the audacity to fight; the nasty, festering scar on the sole of my right foot would always remind me, as would the cigar burns on my wrists. Pleasuring the various excuses for homo sapiens that went in and out of the room has become just a mechanical process for me over the years, another day of unpaid work, ending with me handing over all the money to the heartless man, and I hoped that the money I would give them would be rewarded with food that was barely fit for human consumption, instead of the usual 'serving' of one live, adult German cockroach.

I would lie spread-eagled and naked on the bed, waiting for the next man to come and have his way with me. Sometimes, I would even hear another woman's screams from the next room, but I paid no more attention to her screams, for they had also become part of the daily ebb and flow of my life. Other times, it was I who screamed in pain, but I just took it all in, allowing myself to be stepped on like a doormat until I would get frayed and ripped around the edges, or maybe even after those damages had already happened to me.

I had been taught to think that all this was punishment for something that I have done years ago, so I just took everything in, perhaps as repentance for my sins. I am a married woman, and my husband is a rock star who would go to distant places to play guitar for legions of adoring fans. Because of this, I was often left lonely and alone, bereft of his companionship. I sought out to fill this void with another man: Jake Ronan. He was more handsome and exuberant than my husband; he had bright, blue eyes, a mane of golden hair, flawless, evenly-tanned skin, and a svelte, yet muscular figure. He would eventually be the one to turn my life around.

It all started when I went to a bar alone and drank my loneliness away. It all began when Jake bought me a drink, sat next to me, and had a deep and philosophical conversation with me even though we had just met mere moments ago. We talked about music; he told me that he wanted to be a rock musician, and that his biggest influence was Mötley Crüe. He appreciated everything about me. He had something in him, an almost-ethereal spark that was conspicuously absent in my husband. Furthermore, he was the most talented lover I've ever had; he was quite well-endowed, and he lasted for hours in bed and would never stop.

He would electrify me in pleasure by giving me everything that my husband could not, only to take it all away in one swift motion, when one day, he drove to an old, derelict house for our 'date' and suddenly changed from a sweet, charming young man to a demon in human form, devoid of any redeeming qualities whatsoever. In the house's living room, a group of Russian gangsters awaited his arrival. They tied me up, spat on me, and dragged me to the basement, where they forced me to ingest heroin and cocaine, stripped me of my clothes, and burnt all of my important documents. Jake forcibly took the rings off of my finger and smelted them in front of my eyes.

I could still remember how he held my chin up and placed his face near mine while I tried to counteract his movements by bowing down in shame during those moments, and how he said these words that marked my destiny: "You cheat on your husband; your entire life cheats on you. Karma, bitch." He made me believe that this was all set up as retribution for what I had done. 'No punishment is ever too much' was what he made me to believe.

"Isn't this what you want?" he said to me as he dropped me off at the warehouse for the first time. "To fill your loneliness? Well, let the thousands of men who will line up to fuck you fill that void!" He left me in the dark with his diabolical laughter echoing through the vast, yet claustrophobic room.

Those words continued to haunt me to this day, and I was certain that my husband would never come back to see me, nor will I ever see him again, and if he would, it was so that he could exact his revenge on me. I had ultimately been reduced to an object that is used and thrown away like garbage. Love was something I should fear, lest I fall too deep into it again. Any sign of affection from anyone was just a coat of honey on feces, like death by scaphism: protracted and painful. This was my destiny, and I could no longer do anything to change it. These were the thoughts I kept thinking as I give my everything to every man I would encounter.

But today was different, for when I was busy pleasuring a pasty man in his fifties with a pot belly and cottage cheese thighs, loud noises that sounded like gunshots suddenly resonated through the surroundings. These noises overpowered the corpulent man's cacophonous moans of pleasure, and I heard a familiar voice that shouted, overpowering even those gunshots...

"Where the fuck is she!?" he screamed.

"I said, where the FUCK is she!?" he repeated. I could hear doors from the other rooms kicking open and the women screaming as they got walked in on, along with more gunshots, but I paid no attention to those noises, continuing instead to pleasure my current client like the sex toy that I am now. I had a dream forever ago of a legion of female cops with superhuman strength coming to our rescue, kicking open the doors of the warehouse, as well as the asses of those scumbags who captured us, but these hopes had all faded away as my forced indoctrination towards a life of complete servitude ruined the way I saw myself.

And then, I heard the loudest kick, and the door that led to my room opened. The bronze doorknob banged loudly on the wall. I looked at the door, and saw a familiar-looking man, seemingly worn out from having gone through a lot of things. I could barely even recognize him, but I just knew him from somewhere. He was flanked by two burly men who probably served as his bodyguards. Suddenly, my world seemed to stop before me, and so did he. He just stood there, motionless.

"B-Brian?" I said softly as I stuttered. All the memories I had with him had flashed right before my eyes, including that moment in time when I was clad in a beautiful white dress, hair nicely done, looking pristine: entirely the opposite of who I am now. I remembered when I had tenderly kissed his beautiful lips and promised to love him forever.

For the first time in what seemed to be an eternity, I became brazen enough to push away the hideous man whom I was busy pleasuring during those moments, and ever so slowly, I walked towards Brian, with head still bowed down to the ground in embarrassment and shame because I was in my birthday suit, pleasuring a vile man whose breath smelled of stale beer. I didn't want him to see me like this, an emaciated, waifish whore, but now that he did, it was too late. It was too late for me to redeem myself, but why would he suddenly show up at this moment? To use me, of course. To ultimately have his revenge on me for cheating on him years ago, of course. He set me up for this!

"It... It's not yet your turn," I said meekly. I couldn't even look him straight in the eyes anymore. "Wait in the lobby..."

"It is," he replied. "It's my time to finally see you again after all these years." He shot the fat man in the knee.

"You used to be a rapist," he said curtly to the man. "But you took a bullet to the knee."

"S-Synyster Gates!?" my client said in astonishment as he saw the man who shot his knee.

"Yeah, that's me," Brian responded. "And I will avenge my wife sevenfold."

"Darn. It's a shame I used to be a fan of 'yer kick-ass shreddin'! It's a darn shame you had t'be kicked out of t'band seven years ago!"

"You abuse my wife, and yet you still have the gall to call yourself a fan of mine!?" he hollered. "You piece of human waste. I QUIT the fucking band in pursuit of revenge against scumbags like you!"

"W-what did you just do?" I finally asked, still stuttering in fear.

"Saved you," Brian replied.

"But why? Didn't you set me up for this when you learned that I cheated on you while you were away at tour?"

"Because I love you, Michelle," he said as he wrapped me in an embrace, which I believed I would never feel again, especially in his amazing, tattooed arms. It had also been so long since I was first addressed by my real name instead of misogynistic insults and degrading epithets. "Wait. What? That last part."

"I... Cheated on you," I replied nervously, my voice filled with remorse. "You... you set me up for all this!" I pushed him away, breaking the embrace, and changing my tone to anger.

"All this time, I just knew you cheated," he replied without any trace of anger in his voice, which surprised me. He also stood his ground. "Also, I didn't set you up for this. Like I'd ever do that! You know, I would never let something as horrible as this happen to you... It's too much."

"How did you know? Also... Does that mean that... He... Lied to me!? All this time?"

"I have a confession to make," Brian said, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for what he had to say. "And Jake? That piece of human waste? Yes. He lied to you about everything!"

"W-what is it? What confession?"

"I cheated on you as well," he said with remorse in his face. "With your twin sister. Seven years ago..."

"Has it been that long since I disappeared?" I asked, more shocked about the fact that it's been that long than the fact that he cheated on me with Valary.

"Yes, it's been that long," he replied. "When I went home from tour, she greeted me by the door. So, of course, I would do what any rock star who came from a long, stressful tour would do, but as soon as we got to bed, I noticed something different right off the bat. So, I asked straight up what was going on. It turns out that Val was pretending to be you in order to try to make everything seem okay."

"Where was Matt when that was happening? And why would my sister do such a thing!?"

"He was in the after-party, which I didn't show up to because I was too tired," he said. "Also, she did so because she was afraid."

"Afraid of what?" I asked instantly, itching to know the answers withheld from me for so many years.

"Val was afraid that I would find out about Jake, your, um... other man, but she slipped up when I questioned the oddness. I found out as soon as the name Jake came out of her mouth. She was afraid of how I would react to the fact that you cheated on me. She wanted to cover up for you and do the investigations on Jake by herself surreptitiously and eventually get you rescued- wait," he said, interrupting himself as he took some things from his satchel. "Put these on. I can't bear to look at you like that." He handed me over the black trench coat which he gave me as a Christmas gift a long time ago, and comfortable shoes.

I quickly put the clothes on, and somehow, I felt the strength going back to me, perhaps because I didn't always have to crouch in embarrassment and in futile attempts to cover up.

"By the way, we have to go now. Yes, you're going with us," one of the burly men said and looked at me. "Story time later," he said to my husband.

"But what about the others?" I asked. "And where are you taking me?"

"They have been brought to the convoy parked outside the hotel," he replied. "We're here to rescue you. We will take all of you to a rehabilitation center, where you will be given opportunities to recover." He showed me a police badge to prove his trustworthiness.

"And those left behind in the warehouse?" I asked.

"That's been taken care of. We have sent some troops to go there," he replied. "We've interrogated some of the criminals in order to know where their headquarters is, and where the rest of you girls are held."

"But what of those... Those fucking assholes!?" I finally had the audacity to shout in unadulterated anger that was also cathartic.

"They will be dealt with... Harshly. As harshly as they have treated you," the other burly man answered. "Now, let's move."

Two more burly men in uniform entered the room, cuffed the fat, middle-aged man I was pleasuring earlier, and carried him away. We went down several flights of stairs, and towards the parking lot, leaving the hotel completely trashed and blown to smithereens. It was scorching hot outside, still, but that ended quickly as soon as the engines of the vehicles were turned on, and for the first time in years, I have felt the cool whiff of the air-conditioning unit from an automobile.

Brian was seated beside me, and he continued to hold me close. I felt the comforting warmth of his body against mine, and I felt the beating of his heart, and the beating of my own. With that, I have realized the value of life and love again, although I was still reluctant to be fully receptive of my husband's affections.

"So... What happened next? And wouldn't Matt find out that she cheated on him with you?" I finally asked after a few moments of silence, listening intently to the harmonies of our hearts beating next to each other, connected in a loving union once again.

"He did," Brian replied. "But he wasn't mad about it at all as soon as he knew the reason behind her actions. He was furious about what happened to you and wanted in on the rescue mission, even planning to break the band up to focus solely on saving you, to which Zacky, Johnny, and Arin also agreed. However, I talked them out of breaking the band up for the sake of the fans. I told them that Jimmy would be unhappy about that decision, and that I should undertake the rescue mission on my own. And so Avenged Sevenfold carried on, but without me. They hired Kevin Gruft from Escape the Fate to replace me for their succeeding tours, eventually having him as an official band member, while Val and I began the search for Jake, leading up to you."

"Did the world hear about any rumors that you set me up to be put into this kind of situation?" I asked, not knowing about what had been going on in the world for seven years, having been denied access to the Internet or any reading materials. "I also remembered one of my clients who had a cheating girlfriend berating me for being an adulterer as he assaulted me for his catharsis, and another one asking about your, um... penis size."

There was an unsettling silence for a while after what I had mentioned, and Brian just looked at me with a wry expression on his face, obviously feeling awkward about it.

"Yes, and that is also why I didn't want to involve the rest of the band in my fall from grace," Brian explained. "The rumors spread like wildfire, and the internet was in chaos, abuzz with various news articles about human trafficking, raising awareness about the issue. The band knew that the rumors were false from the start, but in the midst of those lies, I told them to state that the reason I'm not in the band anymore was because they kicked me out when they 'found out' that I set you up to be whored out as punishment for cheating on me. I insisted that I should suffer alone. They persistently disagreed with me, willing to sacrifice their jobs and fame for your sake, but I was more persistent in making them carry on, even for the sake of the fans who now hate me for something I never did, leaving me alone to languish. And you know those kinds of rumors are difficult to disprove. So, to the slammer I went, and on the way there, people threw rotten fruit at me and burned their band shirts in front of my face even though I was no longer associated with Avenged Sevenfold during that time."

"How were you able to get out eventually and have the police trust you?"

"During my time in prison, I realized that I have made the wrong decision to allow the rumor to just proliferate like that. I knew I had to clear my name in order to be able to rescue you, which meant that I had to earn the trust of the policemen," Brian said. "I have made the world believe in a heinous lie. The band visited me in prison, and since I had been gone, they had been rendered unable to write songs other than those with lyrics about attempting to clear my name, which was contrary to what I have made them do to kick me out of the band. So, they decided to call it quits, thus clearing my name at the cost of millions of disappointed fans who wanted new music with Kevin as the lead guitarist."

"So, during that time, how was Val's investigation going?"

"Her efforts had been deemed futile, with Jake's location, and yours, rendered untraceable so far..."

"I did go on tour in those seven years, but not in the way I wanted," I said. "The sex slave industry is quite prolific everywhere even to this day, and it's only getting worse. I have been dispatched like cargo to countries in the Middle East, Southeast Asia, and Europe, eventually returning to the 'home base' in the deserts of Las Vegas just recently. Raiding that warehouse and that hotel is only one step forward for us, and I'm one of the very few who got lucky, along with everyone else who got rescued with me."

"That's true," Brian responded. "But you know what's truer than that?"

"What?"

"That I'm the lucky one to have you as my wife," he said with a grin as he went on to continue his story and hold me even closer to him. "Now that I had my name cleared, Kevin asked me if I wanted to go back to being lead guitarist for Avenged Sevenfold as I've always been. I told him that I have passed on my legacy to him, and that it was his turn to bear the torch as a permanent band member. As the band resumed tours and recorded a new album, now with Kevin on lead guitar, I searched for you relentlessly with the help of a squad of police officers. I told Val to leave everything to me so that she could focus on taking care of her kids and contributing some of her screamed vocals to the new album, which is also why she's not with me today. I traveled the world in pursuit of you, and my travels finally led me to the fear and loathing in Las Vegas."

"Wow... That's quite a lot of stuff to go through..." I said in amazement after hearing the entire story. "Why would you do all of this for me when I was clearly the wrong one in the first place, and the one that got myself into my situation?"

"Love," he replied. "It's as simple, yet complex at the same time, as that. And what I gone through wasn't a lot compared to what you have."

"But... all I did was service various men against my will," I replied. "I just gave in and became a slave, almost becoming robotic in that I eventually started to see my job as just that: a job. There was no passion behind it, no drive, or a sense of purpose. I had lost my courage-"

"You never have," Brian contradicted me. "The mere fact that you had chosen to keep living despite everything is a sign of your strength. And today, the sun has risen. You have triumphed. You have lived through everything. I myself have fallen short on various aspects."

He gently held my left hand and caressed my noticeably bare ring finger.

"We're all humans anyway; we all do wrong," he continued. "But we transcend that and head towards the divine by learning from those wrongs, and forgiving when others are wrong. Now, with that said..."

He gazed intently into my eyes, and paused for a while, as though connecting his soul to mine.

"...will you marry me again?"

\-----------------------------------------------


End file.
